Saturday, 1 August 2015

In the Evening

Edwina
Wyatt’s In the Evening concerns
itself with that ‘time of day’ when not only the light changes, but how our
perceptions of the world around us can be affected too. It is the time
described in a common French idiom as “the hour between the wolf and the dog” –
when the light can cause you to confuse the friendly dog and the unfriendly
wolf. A stanza from Emily Dickinson,
used as an epigraph, describes this effect.

There’s a
certain Slant of light,

Winter Afternoons –

That oppresses,
like the Heft

Of Cathedral Tunes –

Both
the story and the illustrations are, in the strict sense of the word,
fabulous. At the launch of her book
Edwina Wyatt described the relationship between writer and illustrator as the
“co-imagining” of a story. This is an example of “co-imagining” at its best.

The
book introduces us to Charlie and Oscar who are neighbours but not yet
neighbourly. They spend their evenings differently, apart, but observing each
other. The images of these endearing squirrely characters have a mythical
quality; their story has universal resonance while at the same time showing
homely particulars of how these two begin a friendship. This layering of meaning is expressed
verbally in the story’s ‘fable’ quality and visually in the wash of watercolour
over clear outlines. Gaye Chapman’s artwork was inspired by the atmospheric
paintings of JMW Turner, Jackson Pollock and Mark Rothko. Gaye Chapman used
loose washes of transparent watercolours and tea over graphite and coloured
pencils and spatterings of masking-fluid stars, rain and snow.

The
story has significance for Charlie and Oscar and for everyone, for this place
and everywhere. In appreciating the story of the two creatures, children see
possibilities for dealing with their own times of fearfulness and doubt.

Recurring
uncertainty is expressed in the repetition of the line, “Oscar didn’t know what
to do” - a feeling every child and every
adult will know. But the cycle is broken
with a gesture of outreach. Oscar begins
to “hope” for more signs of friendship from Charlie, and makes a move. A
“knock, knock” on Charlie’s door, and a “hello” lead to an evening of
delightful conviviality.

“That evening,
bellies ached from laughter.

That evening,
spoons went back for thirds.”

That
“slant of light” that “oppresses” has been displaced by illuminated windows and
a cosy fireside as “the night had just
begun.” So too has a friendship and
an understanding. “Knock, knock” and “Hello!” won’t be strange sounds to
Charlie any more.

There
is a lesson here in this whimsical fable, but it’s conveyed with the lightest
touch.